


Immutable, Formless

by TCFandom



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Trans Female Character, Trans Inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5281802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TCFandom/pseuds/TCFandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written to fill a prompt.</p><p>Inquisitor Trevelyan has struggled with her body not matching her soul for years, but had at least achieved comfort in no one else knowing and treating her any differently for it. After Cole accidentally outs her secret, she steels herself for the reactions of others, especially dreading what a certain ambassador might think of her now…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Immutable, Formless

Evelyn had gotten used to persuading folks around the castle to let a lot of oddities slide. For all the confusion caused, she’d found that Cole actually did have some idea how to make people feel better.

Other times, he truly didn’t.

Hard as he tried, Cole was still not used to being remembered and being unable to fix his mistakes. The Inquisitor just never thought after all this time he’d turn his attention on her.

In the midst of a round of drinks at the Herald’s Rest, the boy slid up to her with a crown of flowers in hand. “So _that’s_ where the last batch of Crystal Grace went,” she exclaimed as the boy delicately laid the circlet on her head. The herbalist had been in a tizzy over the state of the gardens. “What brought this on, Cole?”

“I couldn’t find shoes good for dancing in your size, and the flowers were the prettiest thing I could find,” he said, twisting his hands together. “Mother and father wouldn’t let Evan have pretty things. He’d steal them from Natalie sometimes.”

Evelyn’s face fell and Dorian noticed that as her grip tightened on her glass it frosted over. She pushed her seat back to stand, thinking to pull him aside, away from the crowd, but the words were tumbling out in his usual frantic fashion.

“Not a templar, not a chancellor, I want to dance! The magic coming is a relief, the spin of staves and robes like the whirling of skirts across the ballroom floor, an audience of none past curfew in the Circle courtyards.”

Despite her best efforts to stay calm, she had Cole’s arm in a vice-like grip as she pulled him toward the door. Dorian knew the others couldn’t feel it, but there was a maelstrom of magic held fast beneath his friend’s skin, the air crackling in ways only another mage could sense. When he caught her breath misting despite the warmth of the fireplace, concern took him; Ice was the domain of demons of Despair for a reason.

Sensing things were not going well, Cole met Evelyn’s eyes in pained confusion. “Natalie would have _shared_ her face paints. She loved Evan. She’d love to know she has a sister.”

A confused silence settled over everyone as the pair disappeared.

“What in blazes was all that about?” Sera asked.

“Something to not think too hard on,” Bull spoke up from the corner, and said no more while slowly finishing his drink.

_

Josephine had always been quick to worry. She and Evelyn had arranged to have breakfast that morning, but a page informed her that the Inquisitor begged her forgiveness for her absence and had taken ill. She scooped up a few of the more amusing reports (King Alistair really needed someone to write his missives for him), stopped by the kitchens, and picked up some lighter fair. A morning on the couch wrapped in blankets before the fire whilst laughing over diplomatic faux pas had cheered Lady Trevelyan up much in the past. Perhaps it would help again.

She did not expect to be greeted by a locked door or such a curt rejection.

“Go away,” drifted through the door like the moaning winds before she could even knock, the click of her shoes on the stairs enough to draw ire apparently.

“Are you alright love?” Only silence followed. Josephine waited a beat before continuing. “I know how the chef’s tea calms your stomach. I thought we might eat by the fire.”

The quiet continued just long enough to worry before Trevelyan spoke up, “Please Josie. Just go. I can’t today.” The woman’s voice broke just a little.

Knowing when her dearest could not be pushed, she relented, determined to try again later. “Alright my love, but… do leave the door unlocked if you are feeling unwell. Should you turn for the worst, the healers mustn’t be forced to scale the tower.” When no laughter followed the half hearted joke, Josephine knew that no ailment of the body was at play, but one of the heart.

_ 

Some let it drop, others couldn’t stop the wheels turning, and by the end of the third day a rumor was flying about Skyhold.

Back in their camp, the Bull’s Chargers swapped every version of the rumor they’d heard. Someone was going to talk to her, and Maker’s breath, they’d be prepared.

“I’ll go calm the kid down,” The Iron Bull said as he started to rise, but Krem pushed him back down.

“No use making her feel like she should have been born a Qunari on top of all the other regrets. I’ll handle this one. Might be coming at it from the flip side, but I’ve got some idea what’s going on in that head.” 

_

Krem pounded harshly on the door of Evelyn’s chambers. “Open up sleeping beauty! You’ve moped long enough, and I’m afraid the world is still going to shite!”

A sliver of firelight shone from the crack at the bottom of the door. Hating himself for departing with tact so quickly, Krem rapped on the door again. “You can finish shaving later sweet heart, now’s the time to talk!”

The door flew up, and an arm wrenched Krem inside. “Shut it! Just _shut up_! What if someone hears you? What if Josephine hears?!”

The last thing Krem expected was to be _right_ and be faced with a half shaven Inquisitor. A scattering of fine hair dusted her chin and cream clung to one cheek. He resisted the urge to laugh at the irony that this woman could grow the stubble he longed for, and jabbed a finger over his shoulder to reassure her. “The stairwell is clear your Worship. No one to hear me make an ass of myself or see the lack of fluff in your bosom.”

Evelyn’s hands twisted, hesitating as to whether to loosen or tighten her robe as there was no concealing either way how limply it was falling across her chest. She settled for an indignant huff before turning on her heel and marching back to the vanity to finish with her straight razor. “Come to lecture me? Get me back to work?”

“Only a little,” Krem started, flopping onto the couch, “Fate of the world and all that. Figured I’d apologize first. I of all people know what it’s like to have someone run their mouth. Aqun-a-whatever like us?” He never could remember the Qunari word. “We fight hard enough to be seen for who we are without all the pre-conceived notions. The struggle is _ours_ to share only if we want. I told you about what I went through in Tevinter because I’ve made peace with it and I know I’m no less a man for it.”

It was good Evelyn had finished with her razor because her hands had started to shake. She sat next to Krem, but with a distance between them, hiding behind her hair. “Did you know? When you told me?”

Krem’s smile held half a wince, knowing honesty in this case might hurt. “Yeah, I had you pegged sometime after Haven fell.”

Trevelyan buried her face in her hands at that, “Evan is just painted on my face, isn’t he? Maker’s breath, I’ll never be right, I’ll never be just _me_ …”

Krem moved a hair closer and gave her shoulder a shove, “I didn’t see the old you. I saw someone crawling in their own skin. I saw a bit of who I used to be. I… also heard the time you lost your temper while you were still fighting frostbite after the retreat. It’s hard to keep your voice high when you’re that hoarse. But hey, I once saw an Orlesian woman drop all the way to a baritone at some opera. It was a good show even if I was stuck flushing out some protestors that were trying to crash it. Just saying, no one else would have even guessed.”

Evelyn gave a choked laugh at that, a little light returning to her. She lifted her chin to look into the fire and Krem took a long hard look. All in all, he was amazed less by how different Evelyn looked behind closed doors, and more stunned by how much she was the same. While he was sure she likely agonized over what face to show the world each morning, Krem still saw the woman he’d first met in the pounding rain on the Storm Coast. There was red around her brows from where she’d plucked at them to shape something thicker into a more delicate arch, her lips a little less full than she usually outlined them, and he suspected those fly away bangs were hiding a strong forehead, but the rest? She was lucky to have such a taper to her jaw, and sharp cheek bones could look good on anyone regardless of gender… he’d swear she colored her eyelids each morning for fun rather than to avoid judgment.

The question he was waiting for her to ask was finally voiced. “What does the Inquisition make of me now? 

Krem crossed his arms and dove right in. She was never one for coddling. “Well, some are saying you’re a man.” She winced. “Other’s are saying you were cursed while in the Fade.” An incredulous twist of her brows. “One nutter claims you’re a Tevinter spy that killed the real Inquisitor and stole her identity; something about how the next Divine should actually be a man in the South just like in Tevinter, blah blah blah…” She threw her head into her palm with a resounding smack. “All in all though?” Krem scooted closer and leaned in conspiratorially. “You’d be surprised just how few fucks there are to go around over some half cocked rumor. For every prat talking about this crap, there are a score telling the tale of how the Inquisitor saved them. Or their family. Or their home. How they fought side by side with her. How she never leaves a soldier behind. How they’d follow her anywhere. So… cat’s out of the bag. And it’s awful. But the world didn’t end for it. It might just end due to your moping though. So sleep well, get up, put your face on like you’ve always done, and march down those stairs and start barking order like you’re the most powerful woman in southern Thedas. ‘Cause you are. You haven’t lost that. You haven’t lost anything.”

Her smile was tight, but genuine. She looked torn between embracing Krem as a friend or saluting him as a subordinate. He finally just punched her in the arm before rising to leave. It’s what he’d do to Bull after all. Her hands twisted as he made for the door, and she plucked up the courage to ask one last question. “Has Josie said anything?”

“No. Maybe the rumor hasn’t reached her under that mountain of paperwork. Maybe she doesn’t care. Either way you should talk to her.”

“Should I? If there’s even a chance she doesn’t know yet-“

“Then she’ll know eventually. No offense your Worship, but when you carry on with someone like that, you’re getting into that stupid romantic ‘one heart, one body,’ territory. She needs to know. And if she can’t handle it? You’re both better off moving on and taking out your frustration on the enemy. If she can? You can stop with all the angst and go rip another demon’s head off already.” With a small bow, he left.

_

It was midday when a knock sounded on Josphine’s door. A page entered with a bow and politely waited for her to finish the sentence she was writing before the ink dripped from her quill.

“Ambassador. Lady Trevelyan regrets her absence these last few days. After training exercises with the troops, she’d like to see to any diplomatic matters in need of her attention. She asks if you would be able to prepare a report in time to be discussed over lunch?”

Josephine hid her surprise well, accepting the invitation and letting the page leave to confirm her plans for the afternoon with Evelyn. She gathered up situational reports from the last 4 days, already prepared and waiting, and headed out to see if she could catch a glimpse of the woman and see how she was faring.

Apparently Evelyn had decided to lead everyone on ten laps of the ramparts. In heavy armor. Cullen let her take the recruits and excused himself. He spotted Josephine and crunched through the fresh snow to join her.

“She’s trying too hard,” were the first words from his mouth, knowing what she’d ask. “It’s enough for the troops, to see her be human, relatable, and kind. The armor bit was something about not expecting any of them to do something she wouldn’t do herself… though she wouldn’t let any squire help her into it. But I can tell that whatever drove her up that tower the last few days is still there.”

“We’ve a long meeting over lunch scheduled. I’ll find out what can be done. Can you make sure we are not interrupted?”

Cullen nodded, jaw set and serious, but eyes kind.

_

Josephine would have preferred drawing the Inquisitor out of her chambers for lunch, but she had obviously needed a bath after running herself ragged about the castle for half the day. By the time she arrived, there was no sign the young mage had been playing soldier half the day. It was almost odd… the woman across the table was the most put together Josephine had ever seen her. Her makeup was even more precise than the day of Celene’s masquerade ball, and there wasn’t a single hair out of place. Even her clothes looked impeccable, as if she had spent every moment waiting adjusting herself to look her absolute best while… sitting. It cast a tension over things that couldn’t be ignored.

“So,” Evelyn began stiffly as Josephine settled into the opposite seat. After an awkward moment, she cracked a half smile. “Is Prince Vael still trying to annex Kirkwall? I do want to know if I should start with tea or wine.”

Josephine rolled her eyes. “I’ve a feeling the Prince will quickly learn how terrible an idea his invasion is. I don’t even need to be a Marcher to realize how important independence is to the city states.”

“Wine it is then. Perhaps we should see if they’ll allow a mage to enter the grand Tourney this year? I’d love a chance to publicly challenge and humiliate that sod, but I suppose an Ostwick girl should really resist and leave that honor to someone from Kirkwall…”

“Competing in the annual Tourney as a mage is actually an idea worth entertaining. The masses so rarely get to see magic at all, much less a grand showing of it under safe circumstances. It might help to improve public opinion of mages on the whole, which would be a boon to both yourself and your compatriots. I hear the Prince is quick on his feet though. Would you even be well enough to face him in time?” Josephine let the bait hang between them a moment, disguising the pause by taking up her own drink. When nothing was said, the ambassador deliberately moved her papers to the farthest edge of the table. “Evie… of all the matters on the Inquisition’s plate right now, none are more pressing than concerns over what would lock their leader away from them for days.”

Evelyn slowly chewed on a bit of cheese over bread to give her time to consider where to start. “How familiar are you with the Trevelyan family tree, Lady Montilyet?”

Josephine smiled. “Intimately by now. We had to chase down quite a few of your extended relatives to stop them running their mouths and damaging your reputation as far back as the first month of our campaign. 

“Do you know who Evan Adrian Trevelyan is?”

“I do.”

She waited for the other to continue, but Josephine merely stared back at her over the rim of her glass. “Do you… truly?” There was nothing but pure confusion etched across Evelyn’s face.

“Is that what this is about? My love,” Josephine paused here to reach over a bowl of fruit to lay a hand upon her arm. “I had hoped that our lack of discussion of your… predecessor? Might convey how little a problem we find him to be. I apologize if that was wrong.”

This was just getting more baffling. Evelyn wasn’t sure which question to start with. Eventually she settled on, “We?”

“Myself, Leliana, Cassandra, and Cullen did not leap blindly into electing you Inquisitor. Our first campaign in the Hinterlands proved you could do good work, but the role of a leader is also political. We did quite a bit of research before coming to a final decision.” The realization was dawning on Evelyn, but slowly, so Josephine punctuated her explanation. “In cases of noble blood lines, there is always an excess of records kept. It was easy to see where Evan ended and Evelyn Adele Trevelyan began.” 

Torn between emotions, Evelyn settled for downing half her glass _far_ too quickly and staring blankly at the hand still upon her. Josephine let the ramifications sink in. “You knew before we even…”

“Yes,” she said with a gentle squeeze of the other’s arm.

“And you still wanted…”

As she trailed off, Josephine stood to step around the table and wrap her arms around the other. She held her from behind, settling her chin on her shoulder to plainly whisper in her ear. “Yes.”

Evelyn leaned back into the embrace, tears of relief barely pricking her eyes. “Can you forgive me my melancholy these last few days? I’ve… been a complete fool, fearing the possibility of you being a lesser woman.”

Josephine shifted her back to the table so Evelyn could see her mock indignation. “You honestly thought me so judgmental?” She slapped a hand against her shoulder lightly as if to chastise her, but settled her weight on it to then tilt her forehead against Evelyn’s. “If there is anything I can do to assuage your fears, you need only ask my love.”

Trevelyan smiled and tilted her chin to press the briefest of chaste kisses to the other’s lips before leaning back in her seat. “Maybe we could… talk?”

Josephine took her seat once more. “Where would you like to start?”

“Well…” Evelyn felt like there was a dam about to burst inside her, but she couldn’t find the release. Deflecting for now seemed better. Maybe it would make her more comfortable. Maybe it would buy the wine time to lend it’s own brand of courage. She flushed red as a question came to mind. “I’d gleaned in the past you may have an… inclination toward both women _and_ men.” She stated it as a fact, but glanced up to search for any rebuttal. Josephine merely inclined her head to answer the question, and gestured for her to continue. “Is this some kind of… _ideal_ for you?”

“That is an oddly difficult question.” Josephine leaned forward and steepled her fingers in thought for a moment before continuing. “I will admit this is new territory to me, so I haven’t much experience with these circumstances, but the years I spent in Orlais have shown me a great many things. You may have gathered from our time in Halamshiral that expressions of gender and self change with the seasons in the Empire. I am sure your struggle is not unique to any one country, but for all its faults, Orlais’ eccentricities seem to empower many to take on the trappings they prefer, so those like you seem more numerous there. Reprisals still happen as biggots are also not exclusive, but I have witnessed those willing to fight for their identity.” A wistful smile spread across Josephine’s face, though it soon took a pained edge. “While still in school, a young woman I knew only as an acquaintance was having trouble ending relations with her suitor. I regret my fascination with the gossip mongering in my youth, but the tales that spread seemed in conflict. One group believed that from the day they first bedded, she thought him to prefer the company of men, and turned him away despite his denial, for his own good. The others believed he could not keep his hands to himself despite her enthusiasm not matching his, and was rejecting him for her own sake. It was much later I learned both to be true. But I digress.” She twirled her spoon in a bowl of stew briefly, taking a bite while choosing her words. “If I may pose a question for context? Forgive me if it is rude to ask, but is this _your_ ideal, m’lady? Would you change your body going forward if you could?”

Evelyn squeezed the grape she’d just grasped a bit too hard and it shot from between her fingers to skitter out of sight. She dropped her head. “It seems almost selfish, you know? For some, just _living_ the way they’ve wanted is enough. To have the people look and see the _you_ that you’ve always known is inside, but can finally find its way out. Don’t get me wrong, I want to smile for hours on end every time someone calls me _m’lady_ without hesitation. But… I’m just not satisfied with myself. A little bit of me just _feels_ wrong.”

“ _That_ is the sentiment I have been circling. What I have been trying to say is that whilst the differences in our bodies do not detract from how appealing I find you, I would not say they increase it either. I would never think to… _fetishize_ the parts of you that make you so uncomfortable.”

Evelyn’s smile was tinged with surprise, feeling relief for reasons she couldn’t quite place. It’s not a matter she’d ever really thought on before. Never had a reason to. They ate in silence for a time, quiet and contemplative. Eventually they made their way to the couch to be closer. “Was there any work that actually needs doing today in that pile?” The Inquisitor waved her hand at the papers still sitting on the table. “Or can I just enjoy this for a bit?”

Josephine looped an arm around her. “There are a few replies I may have to write on your behalf if you wish to not have me transcribe your own words today.”

She laughed, nuzzling up into the crook her lover’s neck. “You always make me sound more eloquent anyway.”

They grew closer as the time ticked on, arms a tangle, but there was a stiffness there both figuratively and literally. Josephine could now appreciate why the other would bother with a corset as often as she did, despite it not being traditional to wear beneath the doublet she often sported about Skyhold. She ran a finger unconsciously along the boning, just barely able to feel the cincher under so many layers, and Evelyn shivered at her touch.

After a time and another glass of wine, Trevelyan found her train of thought and her voice. “I honestly believe the Circle was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Josephine tried to school the surprise from her face, but a little bled through. The other only laughed.

“Don’t get me wrong; there was hell to pay the first time fire sprang from my hands unbidden. In a family full of pious fear mongering pricks, I’m still surprised they didn’t just lop my head off at the dinner table. But fear I’d burn the estate down around them on accident? Understandable. Fearful of what I’d do sneaking about my sister’s closet while she visited Orlais? A bit harder for a child to comprehend.” She cleared her throat and straightened a little in the other’s embrace, putting on an air of confidence she didn’t really feel. “I honestly _did_ look better in my sister’s ball gown, if I do say so myself, but our father did not agree.” Josephine laughed along with her, even if Evelyn’s was tinged with sadness. “It’s a pity I needed something more practical in Halamshiral with assassins on the loose. It’s not often I’ve an excuse for such an indulgence.”

“I’ll make sure you’ve something absolutely frivolous to wear for the celebration sure to follow the end of this war. What made the Circle so much better?”

Evelyn’s brows lifted as she recalled. “Honestly… they didn’t judge. Or make any sort of production out of things. It was odd. I was 10 when I came into my magic. When they brought me to the Circle, I was of course introduced as Evan Trevelyan. I don’t know _what_ possessed me, but I insisted my name was Evelyn to the Enchanter that handled my intake. They-” she laughed suddenly at the memory, clutching Josephine tighter. “They apologized. Treated my name as a clerical error. My first day in each class was awkward, correcting the instructor as they took roll call, but each one just marked the name I gave them on the paper, and moved on. The others my age had suspicions but not much to do with them.”

Josephine began to run her fingers through the other’s hair, kneading the scalp and neck beneath. “You knew so early?” A nod followed in reply. She hesitated to press for details that might be unhappy memories, but the other seemed in a sharing mood. “What of your later years? I’m guessing the other youth were not quiet for long.”

“We always had mixed dormitories and bathing facilities. There wasn’t much to take issue with. It wasn’t as if there was any nefarious spin one could put on the matter. Mutual respect was tantamount when living in such close quarters. Children can be cruel, and some would tease and bully, but I’d made friends, and lord knows the Templars had absolutely no tolerance for that kind of treatment. An unhappy mage is one prone to possession, or some such. Ostwick was actually a very… gentle Circle, based on the tales I’ve heard of the conditions elsewhere.” She wondered how different her life could have been if she’d be cursed to a place as wretched sounding as Kirkwall’s Circle. “I wept when my voice began to deepen, but a friend I’d made, a girl that had once hoped to be a lay sister of the Chantry took to sneaking me out onto the roof past curfew. She’d had years of practice singing in the church choir before her magic presented, and spent many nights helping me to control my voice. My singing might be terrible, but at least I don’t sound like Blackwall.” Her lips thinned a moment. “You know, scratch that. There are some women who sound like Blackwall and there’s nothing bloody wrong with it. It’s a damn shame that some would be judgmental enough pricks to make an issue of it.” She leaned back into her lover’s still working hands, letting the tension of the brief outburst be eased away. “I guess I’m quite the pretender, aren’t I?”

Josephine’s hands fell to her shoulders to begin working at the knots there. She could feel every fight the woman had scraped through, every foe that had strained those muscles. “I think you sound quite brave, putting so much work into making yourself into your own woman rather than bowing to what was expected of you.” She shifted just enough to face the other, lifting Evelyn’s chin with a delicate brush of her fingers. “I don’t see a lie before me. I see more truth then some ever have the courage to show.” A light kiss, a soft smile, and her hands ghosted back to their place on the other’s shoulders in suggestion. “If you’re keen to shed a few layers, I wouldn’t object to getting more comfortable.”

Evelyn gave a nervous laugh. “Lady Montilyet, are you trying to get me assassinated? I’d hate to think of all the ways your father could kill a woman with a paintbrush if he finds out we’ve acted with anything less than the utmost propriety.”

“The same propriety that had you ending my arranged marriage over crossed swords and insults before declaring your undying love for me to all of Val Royeaux?”

“You wanted out of that engagement anyway! Lord Otranto was an absolute ponce, and your family would have regretted the whole affair if they’d seen the dirt Leliana dug up on his family’s trade practices.”

Josephine slapped her shoulder in a chastising fashion. “You were going to have Leliana blackmail him?”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “I don’t think it would have ever come to that even if there’d been anything blackmail worthy. Honestly, I liked the idea of being the dashing duelist _far_ too much.” She shot the other a sparkling grin, and earned another blow to the shoulder, albeit a softer one. “But we’ve strayed from the matter at hand. I’m not keen on giving your father any more reasons to loathe me. I’m sure once the fighting dies down and I’ve actually a chance to meet him, I’ll have enough other things to defend myself for." 

“I simply thought you might enjoy a moment of not being impaled upon whale bone,” Josephine said with a poke at the edge of the offending corset. “Though if your mind is already set on more amorous matters, I’m afraid you’ll need to send for another bottle of wine. I’m much too proper for that… for now.”

Evelyn nearly choked on her own tongue trying to formulate a reply. Eventually they settled into an easy laughter. When it died down, Evelyn felt her nerves return at the idea. There was also something of a thrill there though. She was all right with this. _They_ were all right. Was she ready to let someone that close? The idea of cuddling up to soft curves without 6 layers of fabric in the way had an appeal. Her mind ran in circles for a while until it was headed off by that voice again.

“We need only go so far as you are comfortable with, my love.”

Josephine always could read her like a book. Could read _anyone_. It’s why she was so good at her job, but also so perfect for someone so reserved. Evelyn hesitated as to how to start. Eventually she leaned in to kiss her, slowly and deeply, working the other’s scarf off before tossing it aside. It fluttered over the arm of the couch, its decent like a falling flag at the races, begging Josephine’s hands to follow the path her own were cutting.

She lifted the heavy links of Josephine’s necklace over her head as the other started on the clasps of her doublet. Evelyn had just pulled away her partner’s belt and leather cincher when Josephine finished with the clasps and trailed her hands up to strong shoulders to help her shrug out of the jacket. Those same shoulders stiffened for a moment before relaxing, letting the fabric be eased away. Josephine questioned her with her eyes, and Evelyn replied with a shy smile. “Sorry, I just…” She gestured to her chest, where her corset ended and shirt began. “I didn’t use to have to… pad so much. My chest was easier to shape. All the fighting has just left me so much _harder_.” Evelyn sighed at the thought. “You should have seen me in summer at the Circle. They realized riding us about dress code was useless in hot weather, and we often modified our clothes. I was a knock out in a low cut apprentice robe.”

Josephine let her fingers trail over her chest lightly, stopping to pull away only to shed a layer from her dress. She would have to find a moment to throw another log into the fireplace given the rate they were going. She turned her attention to the lacing of Evelyn’s corset, tugging her to her feet by it, feeling how it was shaping her waist subtly into more feminine curves, pushing the muscles of her chest upward and closer together. The other had reached down her neckline to quickly cast aside any padding while Josephine’s hands were busy, and neither felt the need to speak on it; Evelyn was already turning red with embarrassment. That wouldn’t do; this was supposed to be a respite from worries, a chance to show plainly nothing could come between them.

When the corset was finally cast aside, Josephine gave her a moment to breath while slowly pulling aside the gold silks that made up the main body of her dress. Once finished, they were both in simple undershirts and breeches, basics of modesty, but Evelyn’s arms were beginning to pull about herself as if to hide. Josephine decided it best to not give apprehension a chance to seize her; she took Evelyn’s hands in her own, guided them about her, and quickly pulled their bodies flush, sealing them together with another kiss.

Evelyn buried a hand in Josephine’s hair, loosening it from its bun while gently taking her lower lip between her teeth before letting It slide free, breath ghosting between them. While the other woman’s hands traced soft patterns across her back, she couldn’t think of anything but how well they fit together. Those hands were suddenly not so soft, and the earlier suggestions were being made good on as strong fingers began to massage away tension Evelyn knew _all_ too well she was carrying. It took only moments for her knees to feel weak, and Josephine’s laugh was just barely heard as she guided her to the bed. They lingered sitting for a moment, Josephine shifting to hold her from behind. Fingers trailed beneath Evelyn’s shirt just above her waist, over and over, a silent question. She finally plucked up the confidence to answer and simply removed it all together. Her heart hammered in her chest, but her lover simply coaxed her to stretch out, lie down, and dedicated her attention to her back.

From behind, she seemed like any other woman. Josephine marveled at the cut of her shoulders. It was easy to see she tended to fight from afar, her arms showing the strain her staff put on them, her lower back speaking more to being accustomed to a firm stance than a constant run. While not as chiseled as Cassandra, Evelyn had obviously grown stronger since being so unceremoniously forced from her sedate life in the Circle. She continued to work in firm strokes, musing that oils and the like might be needed if this were to happen more often. They were woefully unprepared; while they had enjoyed each other’s company for some time now, this was a new level of intimacy. Knowing of Evelyn’s anxiety left Josephine feeling all the more privileged; they’d come far together and she hoped to never damage this trust. In so dangerous a line of work, trust was a precious thing.

Evelyn felt she could have fallen asleep under Josephine’s ministrations, hands turning her to mush. She knew they were taking this slowly for the sake of her comfort, and it had begun to feel like some odd sort of challenge to rise to. Unsure if it was right to be so bold, Evelyn turned over beneath her lover, taking Josephine’s hand and bringing her fingers to her lips for a fleeting kiss once they were facing each other. They held the other’s gaze a time before Evelyn looked away first, waiting.

There was a brief moment where the unexpected sight struck her as surreal, but Josephine saw no line dividing the face she’d come to know so well from the rest of the body before her. She wanted to run her hands over every inch of her chest and ease the tension away, but couldn’t decide if it would just remind the other of what she was without. Finally, Josephine just leaned in, nestled close, and asked, “What would you ask of me today, dearest?” She ran a hand lightly down Evelyn’s side in suggestion. 

Josephine couldn’t help a giggle as the other pulled her close and their legs tangled together lightly. Just as her hands were beginning to roam less languidly and with more purpose, the moment was interrupted. Evelyn sat up ramrod straight, hunched over, and gathered the bedspread to herself. As Josephine was tempted to voice her concern, the other turned an apologetic smile toward her, albeit one hidden behind a half bitten lip and a deep blush. “Perhaps it would be best to continue this another time?”

With a peck on the cheek, she left Evelyn in the bed, turning her back to not only retrieve her clothing but to also allow the other the privacy to fumble about at least marginally less embarrassed. As she began to pull each layer back on, she took a moment to ask over her shoulder, “Are you alright love?”

“Perfectly,” was the clipped answer. “Just…” After a time, Evelyn gave a frustrated huff in defeat. “There is not enough room in these pants for the extra equipment I’m saddled with.”

Josephine looked over her shoulder to where the other woman was still curled in on herself, biting her own lip now to try to stifle a laugh. Evelyn saw the twitch of the other’s lips and pouted briefly while still struggling with her waist band to get comfortable. As she finally got her painfully… erect member un-tucked, she relented. “Go ahead. Laugh it up.”

The last thing Evelyn expected was light fingers to reach out to lift her chin and turn her head before a kiss was planted just below her ear. “It’s good to know I can fluster you so easily, Inquisitor,” Josephine said with a devious smirk. “Perhaps I was wrong during that last round of Wicked Grace down in the tavern. Perhaps a lady _does_ have her tells.”

“You can read me like an open book and empty my pockets over cards all you want so long as you don’t send me buck naked through the barracks like you did Cullen.”

“In Andraste’s name, I’d never dream of it my lady.” Now fully clothed, she made to leave, but stopped at the top of the stairs. “Perhaps a private hand in my office would make for a reasonable compromise?” She left before Evelyn could formulate a reply.

Krem was right. The world hadn’t ended, and after a _cold_ bath, she’d be ready to keep it that way.

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: “While out on an adventure, Cole outs to the party that the Inquisitor is transgender (M to F or F to M does not matter), and the Inquisitor get angry and ashamed of it all. After returning to Skyhold in silence, the inquisitor shuts everyone out, including Josephine. Josephine finds out then shows the inquisitor that she does not care about the body of her lover.
> 
> Bonus points for Krem coming in and helping the Inquisitor get deal with being of the not-correct-gender.”
> 
> ~ From the Dragon Age Kink Meme on Livejournal. 
> 
> \- 
> 
> Didn't stick with this one strict, but I think I got the important bits. With many apologies to the prompter for the excessive wait. I didn't think my job would kill me so thoroughly, or that 10 pages would sneak up on me.


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